Rick Gets The Flu
by bbgirl189
Summary: Poor Rick Grimes gets the flu, thank goodness Michonne is there to help him.


SPOILERS: SEASON 6 and SEASON 1 hints! I hope everyone enjoys this sickfic!

Rick walked the wall's perimeter, looking for vulnerabilities or broken points, anything that could threaten their existence. Satisfied with what he saw, he walked towards the main gate, as a loud sneeze ripped from his mouth, leaving him squinting through watery eyes.

"Stupid allergies," he grumbled to himself, sounding congested even in his own ears.

He coughed softly at first, before his cough became harsher and sounded more like a barking dog. He winced, spitting the extra saliva, that pooled in his mouth, out onto the ground. He looked in shock at the green and red-ish pink goo, he had just spit out.

He quickly detoured, heading to his house and wanting to get away from the always prying eyes of his people. He slipped inside, running right into Carl, who was getting ready to go.

Carl took one look at his dad, and put his scavenging bag down. "Michonne, dad's sick! You owe me chocolate pudding." he yelled across the house, earning a pained glare from his dad.

Michonne chuckled, walking up and handing Carl a 4 pack of chocolate pudding she had found.

"We had a bet, since you left this morning." she explained to the unsteady man in front of her. "To bed with you." she added, taking Rick's arm and guided him to their bed.

Carl laughed, before grabbing his bag and leaving.

"M dizzy." Rick mumbled, as he collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes.

"Sleep," Michonne said gently, lightly brushing her hand across his forehead. "You have quite a fever," she observed, concern wrinkling her brow.

Rick fell asleep quickly, before being whisked back to the very beginning, after being saved by Glenn, back to when he finally found his wife and son.

"Lori? What are you thinking about so intently?" he asked aloud, catching Michonne off guard.

Michonne waited, before answering the sick man in confusion. "I'm not Lori, Rick." she said gently, surprised when he laughed and started coughing again. He coughed until he gagged up more green and pink goo, before falling quiet for a moment.

"Sorry, that was rude. You, my wife, are funny. Tell me what you are thinking about?" he asked again, turning his face toward Michonne again.

Michonne sighed softly, before deciding to play along with Rick's fevered mind. She knew enough to get by, thanks to Carl telling her about Lori.

"You were dead, Rick." Michonne said, knowing deep down that Lori would've been upset about that.

"I'm not now; I'm here, Lori," Rick argued, his body jerking slightly in agitation.

"It's okay, Rick; you're feverish. Rest," Michonne said, touching his cheek in concern. She could feel his temperature was climbing higher by the moment. "Rick, you're too warm." she added.

"It's Georgia, and a million degrees out." Rick said incredulously, shivering as the cooler room felt too cold to him. "Come to think of it, its really cold..." he admitted weakly.

Michonne froze at his admission, now she really wished they had a working thermometer. His fever was now affecting his inner temperature to, she needed to get his temp down and immediately.

"Rick, your fever is too high. If we don't lower if, you could die." She said firmly. She could see he didn't believe her, he coughed softly at first, before barking so hard his eyes watered and he was left wheezing. "Rick?" she asked in concern.

"I don't feel so hot." Rick admitted softly, paling considerably after speaking. "Like weird..." he mumbled.

Michonne nodded her head slowly, wondering what he meant exactly. She walked out of the room, headed to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed back upstairs.

Rick could hear her coming, knew he needed to warn her, as he doubled over the edge of the bed, vomiting green and pink goo and water all over the floor beside the bed.

"Rick!" She gasped, running up to his side, as she side stepped the vomit. "What just happened?" She demanded flatly, as he vomited twice more before having a moment to catch his breath.

"Told you I felt weird," Rick mumbled weakly, as he lay against the edge of the bed, vomiting back to back weakly, and with little to no control.

Michonne watched him silently, completely at a loss on what to say or do. She wasn't used to dealing with vomit, much less uncontrollable vomit. She had never seen Rick like this either, which was more than slightly unnerving. The man was always so strong, even when he lost his mind for a time, he did it strongly.

She shook her head, before deciding on a plan of action that involved cleaning up the mess and hoping he didn't add to it... a bucket, that would help. She grabbed a nearby trashcan and put it beneath Rick's head, so he could vomit in that instead of all over the floor.

No sooner did she do that, Rick vomited more goo, earning an odd look from his female companion. "Just mucus, " he slurred weakly, before vomiting a meager amount of food into the can.

Michonne sighed softly, shaking her head. "You poor thing, lets get you to sleep, and maybe you'll feel better." she suggested, wishing Carl was around to question.

Just as Rick dozed off, Carl slammed the front door, and hurried footsteps were heard on the stairs. "Carl?" he asked weakly, forcing his eyes open.

Michonne mentally face palmed, wishing Carl had been quieter. "Carl?"She hissed, a slight edge to her tone.

"Yeah?" Carl asked, looking slighty perturbed. "Edith is sick too. Maggie won't let me near her." he explained. "Is dad okay?" he asked. wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell and mess left on the floor and in the can.

"He is vomiting a ton, and it keeps being mucus... according to him." Michonne explained, as Rick decided to prove her point and vomit up more goo, more red than pink or green.

"Dad, you need to stop, before that turns into pure blood again." Carl said, sounding slightly frantic.

Rick coughed dryly, before muffling it as he barked hard. when he stopped, he looked at Carl in surprise. "When did you get home?" he asked in confusion.

"A little bit ago," Carl said, handing his dad a cloth to wipe his face. "Clean up, before you scare Michonne." he said calmly, winking at Michonne.

Rick cleaned himself up, keeping the cloth to prevent further messes. "Sorry, Michonne," he said hoarsely. "I will clean up the mess I made, can you check on Judith?" he asked nonchalantly.

Michonne nodded, leaving the room quickly. Carl followed her, but looked back in time to see his dad double over the bed again, bringing up only red.

Rick waved Carl away, not wanting Michonne or Judith to see what had just happened. "I'm fine, just take care of them, so they don't see this. Let me clean this up." he requested, earning a nod from his son.

—

He cleaned up the vomit and blood, making sure to not leave any left out. He cleaned himself up too, making it appear like he is fine.


End file.
